


Nightmares

by Rasberrysmiles



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Erik has Feelings, Erik is not a Happy Bunny, Fix-It, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, M/M, Nightmares, Post X-Men: First Class
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-12
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-02-20 21:45:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2444303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rasberrysmiles/pseuds/Rasberrysmiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Erik's nightmares had not disappeared. They had only changed." A study of Erik, Charles, their relationship, and how they eventually forgive both each other and themselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Erik's nightmares had not disappeared. Or, in a way they had. He'd thought that killing Schmidt would help, that he'd no longer dream of being strapped down at that table, or watch his mother die over and over again without being able to do anything about it. If he killed the man causing him all that pain, then surely then pain too would disappear. But his nightmares were still there; they had just changed. He no longer woke up believing it was the forties, and that he was still on that table. He no longer woke up to realise that he'd unleashed his powers in sleep and twisted and destroyed all metal in the whole room. 

Instead he dreamed of blood. The blood of his friends, of his enemies, of all those he killed, and all those he could have killed. It dripped from his hand to pool on the floor as the soulless eyes of the bodies lying by his feet stared up at him. He knew their faces; they were his friends (or were they really, a treacherous part of his mind whispered), and he knew that it was he who'd killed them. Murderer, their eyes seemed to say. And they would stare at him until he couldn't take it anymore and woke up screaming. 

Sometimes he dreamed of the camps too, and that was almost worse, because his friends weren't dead then, they were prisoners. And for some reason he knew that he'd put them there himself. He sometimes saw himself as one of the guards, barking out orders in rapid German. When he woke up from those dreams, the guilt and urge to hurt himself were almost suffocating. It was not that he actively wanted to harm himself, or that he liked the pain in some way (Erik had felt enough pain in his life to know that he did not enjoy it at all). Maybe it was a way for him to punish himself, and maybe he deserved it. Once or twice he’d actually woken up bleeding from cuts all over his arms and chest, and it took him a while to figure out that he must've used his powers to make whatever metal there was to be found in the room hurt him. Yet he couldn't help feeling like he deserved it. 

Other times Shaw was there, and in a way that was worse than seeing his friends dying. Because Shaw would talk to him, sometimes in German and sometimes in English. He told Erik of his dreams for the future, of how Erik would continue in his footsteps. And that made bile rise in his throat, because Erik didn’t want to be Shaw, the man he’d hated for such a long time. He wanted freedom for all mutants from their oppressors, and in Erik’s eyes Shaw was the oppressor. Sometimes Shaw touched him too; just small, innocent touches. A hand stroking his cheek, or ruffling his hair, or lips pressing lightly against his forehead. And then he was fourteen again; strapped down on the table while Shaw stood above him. “You are a good boy, little Erik. My good boy.” He’d say, and his smile reminded Erik of an animal looking at his prey right before devouring it. When he woke up, he was never sure if what he’d seen was only a dream, or a memory, but it didn’t matter because either way, the panic he felt still took his breath away, and made him sick to the stomach. He hated Shaw with a burning passion, even after killing him. Because it didn’t matter that Shaw was dead, that it was Erik who had killed him; the man still haunted him every time he closed his eyes. 

Then there was Charles, who frequented his dreams almost every night. And maybe that was the worst part, because while he knew his friends didn't blame him for anything, Charles did. His words that dreadful day on the beach had etched themselves in his mind, and sometimes it seemed as though every time he closed his eyes he heard him, heard that pained voice utter the words that forever condemned him to a life of guilt.  
"She didn't do this, Erik. You did"  
And he knew, he'd know even before Charles said it, that it was his fault. He suspected that in the back of his mind he'd always known that one day he would hurt Charles, and now that day had come. Charles had been shot, and even though it technically wasn’t him who’d fired the bullet, it was his fault. So in his dreams Charles stared at him with sad and pained eyes, and told him how it was his fault that he was hurt; that he was dead. It was from those dreams Erik woke up with tears streaming down his cheeks, feeling more alone than ever.  
His missed Charles, as much as it pained him to admit it, and even though he’d spent almost his whole life alone, he was now lonelier than ever. Charles had been his friend, his only friend in fact, and even though they’d only spent a few short months together he’d made Erik feel… He’d made him feel what exactly? Less lonely? Noticed? Cared for? Yes, that was it; Charles had made Erik feel cared for, for the first time since his mother had died. He had told Emma that he wanted her to fill the empty space Charles ha left by his side, but he knew she couldn’t. Emma was nothing like Charles; she was cold and calculating while Charles was warm and idealistic. The name Frost really suited her, in the same way Charles’s name suited him. Xavier; it sounded almost like Saviour. And Charles was a saviour, even though he’d failed to save Erik. But that wasn’t Charles fault, he’d tried to save him but Erik was not made to be saved. He was broken, and anyone who got close would eventually cut themselves on his jagged edges. That’s what had happened with Charles, and Erik had left him bleeding on the beach. But it was for the best, because if Erik was alone, then no one else would be hurt.


	2. Chapter 2

Erik awoke with a start, and for a moment he couldn't remember where he was. The room where he slept was small; both the wallpapers and the carpet stained, and smelling distinctly like cigarette smoke. Then the memories started returning, and he realised that he currently was in his room at the dingy motel where he and his fledgling brotherhood had decided to stay the night. They still hadn't found anywhere to stay, and since most of them were still wanted by national security and none of them owned any large mansions they had to stick with dingy motels and such for now. 

Now that he thought about it; the walls at this place were probably quite thin, and he desperately hoped that he hadn't woken anyone else up. His nightmare that night had been brutal, and his throat was sore from screaming. What was worse was that the room next to his belonged to Emma, and the last time he’d accidentally woken her up she’d sent white hot shockwaves of pain into his mind. She kept it up until he blacked out, and woke up a few hours later with a pounding headache. After that, Erik couldn't help but be even more wary of Emma. Her powers were vastly different from Charles’s, something Erik had come to realise over time. And not necessarily better; because while Emma used brute force to enter people’s minds and control them, Charles convinced them and slowly nestled himself into their mind. Another bonus was that Charles didn't hurt you if you woke him up (but Erik wasn't going to think about that, wasn't going to think about Charles sitting with him and stroking his hair when a particularly horrifying nightmare had left him unable to sleep). 

Two months had passed since Erik last saw Charles, since Erik had left him bleeding on the beach, and he missed him. The first few weeks had passed in a flurry of activity, and Erik simply hadn't had the time to think about Charles. They had broken Emma out of prison, had tried to find somewhere safe to hide, and had even tried to subtly create signs for other mutants in hiding who wanted to join their cause. And Erik had had been angry at Charles, still was in fact. Angry at him for trying to stop him from killing Shaw, for being unable to see why Erik had to do what he did, for trying to defend the humans when he Erik knew full well what they were capable of. No, Erik didn't regret what had happened, and what he had been about to do. Except for Charles, because the only thing he couldn't live with was allowing Charles to get hurt. He suspected that the knowledge that he’d hurt Charles would plague him for the rest of his days, and he knew that he deserved it. 

Erik wished though that Charles had understood before it was too late, before it had driven them apart. But Charles’s belief that humans and mutants could cooperate was not something Erik could stand behind; not when he’d seen what humans were capable of. , And he knew without a doubt that eventually it would happen, eventually the humans find a reason to hurt mutants. It had happened before, and if Charles idea was followed through it would happen again. So why should mutants conform to human laws and rules? They were the next step in evolution, and even the most harmless mutant possessed powers far surpassing those of any humans. Given the right opportunity; mutants could take over the world, and Charles still wanted them to compromise and cooperate with a species so much weaker than them, who wanted nothing else than to hurt and oppress what they were afraid of. 

A gentle knock on the door started Erik from his reveries, and he wondered who could possibly want to visit his room at this time of the night. A far as he knew, the others were snoring away I their rooms, and they probably assumed he did the same. Still he decided to let whoever it was in, so he opened the door with the brass knob used as a handle. Erik couldn't help but to be eternally grateful for door handles made out of metal. They made opening doors so much easier.  
Fortunately it wasn't Emma who came in through the open door, but Raven. She looked slightly nervous, and hesitated for a moment before stepping towards him.  
“Mystique?” he asked quietly. Erik wasn't really sure if she preferred him to use her chosen name over her old one, but since she’d started calling him Magneto he usually stuck with Mystique. And maybe it was fitting, because to Charles they’d been Erik and Raven, and Charles wasn't here now.  
For a moment she only frowned at him thoughtfully, before asking: 

“Erik, are you all right?” 

The question took him aback; it had been a long time (two months, his treacherous mind whispered) since someone asked him if he was all right. Not that he’d ever answered those questions truthfully before, not even when Charles had asked. He didn't want anyone’s pity when it would only make him look weak. And weak was not something Erik could afford to be. So he very nearly opened his mouth to tell Raven that yes he was fine, could she please leave him now, when he realised that he didn't want to. He was tired and achy, but yet he hadn't had a proper night’s sleep in weeks, and he didn't feel like closing himself up again. But talking, telling Raven about everything, would mean pity and weakness, and too much effort on his part. Thankfully, before he could say anything Raven beat him to it: 

“It’s Charles isn't it? You’re missing him” It was more a statement than a question, and to Erik it only proved how good she was at reading him. It seemed as though growing up with a telepath had left some marks. 

“It’s fine you know; I miss him a lot too” That confused Erik a little, because when they had parted ways with Charles and the others, Raven had seemed to be almost angry with her brother. 

“You do?” he asked, and she smiled sadly. 

“Yeah, I do. It took me awhile to realise it, but he’s my brother and I really miss him.” This confused Erik even more. 

“But how can you? He betrayed you, wanted you to cover yourself up, hide.” 

“I know” Raven said without hesitation “and I haven’t forgiven him for that. But he’s still my brother, and he’s still your friend.” 

Erik didn't know what to say to that. Yes, he was still angry with Charles, but what Raven had said was true. Charles had been the first person to convince Erik that he wasn't alone, and without him he actually felt lonely for the first time since the death of his mother. When Erik didn't say anything, Raven continued: 

“Maybe you should visit him?” 

“Excuse me?” Erik had no idea how to respond to her suggestion, the idea of actually visiting Charles had never even entered his mind. And even if he did go and visit Charles, would Charles want to see him? No, probably not. 

Raven only laughed before she said: 

“Just go see him. You don’t even have to talk to him, just check how he is. It clearly bothers you, and maybe if you resolve your problems the rest of us won’t have to be woken up in the middle of the night.” 

It struck him that she might actually be right; not knowing how Charles was really did bother him. Then he realised that he didn't actually know whether Charles was even alive or not. Panic coursed through his mind at the thought, and the guilt and self-loathing reappeared at the forefront of his mind. What if he’d killed Charles, without even realising it? He might have killed the only man who’d ever cared for him, who’d ever gotten close enough to him without running away in fear and disgust. 

“Just go. We can manage without you for a day or two” she must have sensed his panic, because it was said almost as an exasperated sigh. And maybe he should go it would be nice to be away for a little while. As far as he knew, the mansion was only a couple of hours drive away, and if he left today he would be back tomorrow.  
His thoughts were probably visible on his face, because Raven just smiled knowingly before leaving the room. 

\----

That’s why, about three hours later, Erik found himself sitting in his car, starting the long drive towards the mansion. If he was lucky, he would arrive by midday, which meant that he could return today if it was necessary. That was why he hadn't brought anything with him, other his helmet. 

He knew that Charles hated the helmet, and during the past months he’d come to despise it himself. Most of the time, he’d kept it with him, he hadn't worn it. And maybe not wearing it was a way of saying that he actually wanted Charles to search for him, and find him. Yet he couldn't bring himself to leave it, and completely bare his mind to Charles. He couldn't allow himself to be that vulnerable, to trust another person that much. Even when Charles was the person in question. So Erik kept the helmet on, even though he knew it would cause Charles pain. And maybe it was better that way; if Charles ever read Erik’s mind then surely he would be scared off. 

During the drive, Erik tried not to think about Charles, but it was hard. The traffic wasn't too bad, and without that as a distraction Erik found his mind drifting. He wondered what Charles was doing now, and if he was alright. The last time Erik had seen him, he’d just been shot in the back, but Erik hoped he would've healed by now, because he couldn't bear to think about how he might have caused Charles any permanent harm. But he couldn't help but suspect that the damage he’d caused by leaving was beyond repair.  
After a few hours, he had arrived at his destination. He parked his car by the road outside the mansion, and had only opened his gate when the panic struck. Charles couldn't possibly want him to be here, not after everything Erik had done to him. Erik was the one who’d caused Charles pain, even though he had sworn to himself to never harm his friend, and Charles must hate him for it. He let the thought sink in, and it all made sense; Charles hated him, and he deserved it. He deserved all the hate, and all the pain in the world, because he’d hurt the only person (except his parents, but they were dead, and that was his fault too) to ever really care about him. And how could he possibly go through with his visit when he knew how much his friend despised him?

In blind panic he stumbled back to the car, not noticing the man sitting by one of the windows of the mansion.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, life has been a bit hectic recently. Also, I've made a tiny change to chapter 2. Erik only intends to drive away at the end, and does not actually do so before the chapter ends.

Charles Xavier was alone. And not only that, he was desperately lonely, and there was no point in denying it. Of course, it wasn't exactly unusual for him to feel that way; his whole childhood before meeting Raven had been spent alone. With a distant mother and a cruel stepfather, Charles had been left mostly to fend for himself. Then he’d met Raven though, and all of sudden his days had become much brighter. But now he once again felt the cold loneliness of his childhood, ironically stuck in the same house as where he’d grown up. 

It had been two months since Erik and Raven had left them, left him bleeding on that beach. Two months filled with loneliness and despair of losing both his sister, his friend, and the use of his legs. The first few weeks had been spent at the hospital, where he’d undergone three different, but equally painful, surgeries, only to be told that there was no hope for him to ever use his legs again. After that he’d returned to the mansion, his future school, so filled with memories of happier times. The return had been almost more painful than being shot (and he would know, he still woke up from nightmares and memories of the bullet entering his back), all the memories he had of the place constantly reminded him of what he’d lost. During only a few short weeks he’d created so many memories together with Erik, who’d become, for what it was worth, his best friend. Still was his best friend, Charles mind corrected, even if Erik didn't seem to agree. Not to mention all the memories he had of growing up at the mansion with Rave. Of happier days where they actually got along, and did not constantly fight. 

Charles could acknowledge the he had royally fucked up his whole relationship with Raven, and he knew that her leaving had been inevitable, but it still hurt. He’d only wanted what he thought was best for her, and in the end that had been what drove her away. Someday, Charles promised himself, he would try to mend his relationship with his sister again, so that even if their opinions differed they would still part as friends. 

Soon after his return to the mansion, Moira had left to continue her work with the CIA. Charles had wiped her memories, but not before giving her a kiss. Sometimes he regretted it, but he had been aware of Moira’s feelings for him, and knowing that he was about to delete all her memories of him, it felt right to give her some sort of goodbye. The thing was that Charles did not return the feelings. Moira was an attractive woman and he liked her, of course he did, but more as a friend than anything else. And not nearly in the same way as he liked Erik. 

Charles had known ever since he was young that he liked both boys and girls. He had also known from an early age this was perceived as wrong by most of society. And for a long time he hadn't acted upon it, choosing instead to only focus on his attraction to girls. But then he’d gone to Oxford, and met others just like him. Suddenly he realised that there was nothing wrong with him, and during his years there it was just as likely that he went home with a man as with a woman. 

Then there was Erik, and from the moment he first touched the other man’s mind Charles had been completely swept away by his feelings for him. He knew of course that Erik did not feel the same, that what he felt was purely friendship. And most of the time Charles was fine with that, having Erik as a friend had been better than not having him at all. Now that Erik had left though, Charles’s feeling for him only amplified his loneliness. 

He had to admit that he felt sort of ridiculous for feeling lonely all the time though; Hank, Sean and Alex was still there, and soon the school would open and his students would arrive. His childhood home would become the safe haven for mutants that he’d always dreamt of creating, where other mutants could be taught not only to control and better understand their powers, but also how to use them for good. The dream felt hollow now, even though it was about to become true. Mostly because he’d thought he shared it with Raven and Erik, and when he’d imagined the future the three of them had always been together. Without them he found himself less enthusiastic to finally begin working. And he couldn't help but to feel lonely, even with the others there. Sure, they were his friends, but most of the time he still saw Alex and Sean as students rather than friends, and Hank still kept himself locked up in the lab more often than not. Charles suspected that he wasn't completely comfortable in his new body yet, and Alex incessant teasing didn't help either. He should probably talk to them both about it, but Charles couldn't bring himself to do it. If even getting out of bed was hard some days, having a serious conversation where he was supposed to be the adult felt nearly impossible. So he stayed in his room or in the library, stuck in his wheelchair and desperately missing the only two people who could possibly ease his loneliness and boredom. 

Charles was very aware that he wasn't supposed to miss Erik, or Raven for the matter, but he still did. They had left him paralyzed, bleeding, and in pain without even a second glance. Erik had stolen not only Charles’s sister, his legs, and his heart, but also his optimism and his hope, and for that Charles should hate him. But he couldn't bring himself to hate Erik, he cared too much for him. Love, a small part of his mind whispered, the reason why you can’t hate him is because you love him. But Charles couldn't admit that either. There was no point in doing it anyway, Erik was gone, and would probably never return. 

But that particular day, something happened. Charles had been sitting by the window in the library, not looking at anything in particular, and thinking about whether or not he should make himself a cup of tea, when he suddenly saw a car approaching the gates of the estate. At first he didn't recognise the car, it wasn't one that belonged to him or the school, nor was it a standard CIA car, and for a moment he worried that whoever the guest was, they weren't welcomed. It also worried him that he couldn't feel the mind of whoever was in that car. Then a familiar figure stepped out, and Charles had never wanted to be out of the bloody chair more than in that moment. He wanted to be able to run down the stairs, and greet the familiar figure. Because the man stepping out of the car was no other than Erik Lensherr, wearing his damned helmet and a cape of all things. To say that Charles was surprised was no understatement, he had no idea what the man he hadn't hurt from for two months was doing here? 

Erik had only taken a few steps from the car, when he suddenly froze. The look on his face was obscured by the helmet, and Charles could only watch as he turned around toward the car. Charles started wheeling himself out of the library, towards the elevator Hank had installed only a few weeks ago. Erik was about to leave, and Charles wouldn't let him do that. He needed to speak with him again, and possibly punching him in the face. Because all of sudden he felt was angry with the other man, his whole body tingling with rage. He might not hate Erik, but that didn't mean that he wasn't absolutely furious with him, he just hadn't realised it until he finally saw Erik again. 

Just as Charles was about to exit the library a blurry, blue, shape came from the main entrance to the house and ran towards Erik. It was Hank, who’d apparently had the same idea as Charles to stop Erik, but seemingly intended to do it in a more violent way. He tackled Erik from behind, and grabbed his neck in a chokehold. Erik fought back furiously, and Charles could feel all the metal in the entire house rattle. But even though Erik was stronger than most Hank easily overpowered him, and started to continuously smash his head against the ground. After a moment his body went slack, and Charles realised that was enough. He lifted his hand to his temple, a gesture that felt familiar even though it served no real purpose, and implanted a strong suggestion of “Stop!” in Hank’s mind. Hank froze immediately, and Erik’s limp body fell to the ground. 

“But, professor…” Hank thought “He might try to hurt you. He already has hurt you” 

Charles didn't have a good answer for that, so instead he settled for: 

“I wasn't going to let you kill him. Bring him inside and put him in his old room.” Charles could feel Hank’s reluctance, but that wasn't going to stop him. He wanted to talk to Erik, ask him why he’d come here, and what he’d been up to during the past two months. Maybe he wanted to ask him to come back as well, but he didn't want to think about that. Not when it was quite possible that as soon as Erik had recuperated from the massive concussion he was bound to have, he would leave. So maybe Charles was selfish, but he wanted to keep Erik with him for as long as possible. 

“Just do it.” he told Hank, when the other mutant started to protest. It was probably a terrible idea to let Erik stay with them; Hank’s first reaction upon seeing him had after all been to attack. But Charles had made his decision, and that decision was final. With a sigh, he wheeled himself out of the library and towards the corridor where Erik’s old room was. The next few days would without a doubt become very interesting.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. It might take a while between chapters from now on, because I'm a bit busy with school at the moment

The first thing Erik noticed when he surfaced from unconsciousness was that the bed was softer than the one he’d slept in the night before. That confused him slightly, because he had no memories of going to sleep somewhere. Then he noticed the headache that felt like it would split his skull in two, and he tried to contain a pained whimper. It didn’t feel like the kind of headache that came from a hangover, and he had no memory of drinking before going to sleep. What the hell had happened to him, and where the hell was he?  
With a groan he opened his eyes, and immediately closed them again. The light made his headache spike to unbearable levels, and for a while he focused on just breathing calmly through his nose. When his head stopped feeling like someone was constantly beating on it with a hammer he tried again. The light was still painful, but after a moment he could focus on the ceiling above him. It looked familiar. Erik turned his head to look at the rest of the room, and in that moment he realised where he was. He was in his bed, and in his old room in Charles’s mansion. 

That was when the memories returned. Raven had for some reason convinced him that visiting Charles wouldn’t be a terrible idea, and it wasn’t until he’d actually seen the mansion that he realised what a terrible idea it was. Nothing good would ever come from him seeing Charles again. Charles had made it very clear that they did not want the same thing, and that wouldn’t change overnight. And Erik had hurt Charles, his return wouldn’t change that, and it was quite possible that he would hurt Charles again. No, any sort of reconciliation between them would never be an option. But as Erik had tried to leave, something heavy had hit him from behind and had tackled him to the ground. Beast, he’d realised as the blue mutant had grabbed him around his throat and started smashing his head on the ground. Erik had tried to use his powers to fend Beast off, but the constant blows towards his head made it hard to concentrate on any metal in the area. He didn’t have any more memories after that, which meant he must’ve passed out, and someone must’ve brought him here. 

He needed to leave, Erik realised. He needed to leave as soon as possible, before anyone noticed that he’d woken up. But when he tried to sit up the room started spinning, and he was hit by violent nausea. Half blind from the pain in his head and the dizziness he stumbled towards the bathroom, where he threw up repeatedly in the toilet. Afterward he felt drained, and instead of trying to stumble back to his bed he curled up on the cold bathroom floor and pressed his forehead against the tiles, while he squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted to die, or at least pass out. 

After what felt like hours, but had only been a little more than a minute, a familiar voice cut through the silence: 

“Erik, are you awake?”

But Erik only whimpered, even that soft voice worsened the pain in his head. The voice came closer:  
“Oh my friend” it said sadly. Charles must’ve been standing next to him, because it sounded as if he whispered. 

With a small whimper, that he’d desperately tried to conceal, Erik opened his eyes. The sight that greeted him was something not even his worst nightmares could’ve prepared him for. There was Charles, but he wasn’t standing as Erik had assumed, but rather sitting… in a wheelchair. 

“Charles…” he whispered, as he slowly got up from the floor “what happened?” and Erik hated how his voice broke towards the end of the question. Charles sighed, and looked at sadly. 

“The bullet that hit me on the beach; I’m afraid it paralyzed me. From the waist down.” 

Erik could only stare. Had he… done this? Had he confined Charles- beautiful, energetic Charles- to a wheelchair? 

“But it’s not for forever, right?” he asked, and clung desperately to the hope what he’d done would be reversible. It was an unusual feeling, Erik had never cared much for hope before, but now he clung to it like it was his only lifeline. And maybe it was, because if Charles would be okay again the guilt wouldn’t crush him completely. Erik could never live with being the man who’d paralyzed his best friend, his only friend. 

“I’m afraid it is” Charles answered, and here Erik could detect a hint of bitterness. So Charles blamed him after all. Good. 

Had Erik not already been on his knees, he was sure he would’ve crumpled to the floor. Fine tremors wracked his body, and all the metal in the room started vibration slightly. He was furious at himself. Charles was the second person in his life that he’d ever cared about this much, and he’d hurt him too. First his mother, who’d been killed because Erik couldn’t lift that coin, and now Charles, because Erik had been so careless when deflecting the bullet. A damn bullet, which he normally would’ve had control over. But instead of stopping it he’d put it in his best friend’s spine. 

Calm your mind Erik! Charles’s voice echoed in his mind. So Charles was reading his mind again? Of course he was. Erik had a vague memory of seeing the helmet on a small table by the bed earlier, and he cursed himself for not thinking of putting it on. But the thought of wearing a helmet with his current headache wasn’t exactly appealing. 

“Get out of my head!” he snarled furiously. Why couldn’t Charles just understand that he didn’t belong in Erik’s mind? Erik’s thought were his own, and for a long time his own mind had been the only place where he actually felt slightly safe. The idea that Charles should come gallivanting into his thoughts and see everything disturbed him greatly. But Erik couldn’t help but notice how something dark and painful seemed to flicker in Charles’s eyes before he carefully schooled his expression back to normal. 

“Right” Charles said, voice completely devoid of any emotion “you should get back to bed. Do you need any help?”

Erik shook his head, and shakily tried to stand up. It took a while and he had to support himself against the wall but he managed to stumble his way out of the bathroom and towards the bed. The exhaustion had hit him again, and he felt completely drained from just walking a few metres. He sat down heavily on the bed and watched as Charles wheeled himself out of the bathroom. For a long while the telepath only looked at Erik with an unreadable gaze. Erik didn’t meet his eyes, opting instead to stare down at the floor. After a moment Charles looked away and asked: 

“Is there anything else you need?” 

There wasn’t, and Erik told him so, voice slightly hoarse. He just wanted to go back to sleep and get rid of the dreadful headache. Charles started wheeling himself towards the door, but before he could leave Erik called out: 

“Charles, I’m sorry.”

Erik could not see Charles face, and therefore could not watch his reaction to this statement. And he knew that it was no use, but he needed to let Charles know that he never wanted to hurt him. Charles didn’t answer though, and Erik could only watch as Charles left the room and the door closed behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my take on what should have happened after first class. Expect a lot of angst and hurt/comfort but eventually a happy ending. And a fair warning; I am shit at updating, so expect long breaks between chapters. 
> 
> Also, I am Charmingyetterrible on tumblr. Come visit me!


End file.
